6 Feet Under
by FrostWing27
Summary: An Erisol (Eridan Sollux) Sadstuck, Humanstuck, and slightly schoolstuck fanfic. Sollux has some trouble with his family, and meets a stranger when looking for shelter... T for abuse, romance and language.
1. Rain

**Hello lovlies! So sorry I haven't been on here and writing for so long; I've been having some personal problems. This story as well probably won't be updated often, but I will try my best to put up a chapter at least once a week. So yeah, another sadstuck; what else would you expect from me anyways?**

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 **Have a wonderful morning/day/afternoon/evening, loves!**

 **~Sollux POV~**

You spit on the street coldly. It comes out tinted pink, slightly off the red that is actually in your mouth. You can taste the metallic tang, and the cold air stings against your warm skin. Trying desperately for warmth, you wrap your shirt tighter to your chest and pull your arms in more into the short sleeves. Without warning, you've been kicked out again. This time, there wasn't even yelling outside of your door, no slamming against it, no bottles smashing on the floor. There was was no time to prepare yourself for the long night that would be ahead of you, and now you were trudging along the street in the bitter cold with only a tee shirt and some jeans. You had barely even been able to put on your glasses.

You look up; somehow, you had wandered into a sort of wealthy neighborhood. There are lines and lines of large, expensive houses. Most of them are painted blues, tans, light greens, pretty pastels that make you feel sick. For these people, life is perfect. For these people, nothing is impossible. They have everything they could ever want, and they don't even have to try. You spit again, and this time it comes out clearer, but still tinted. Sighing, you look up at the clouds and see that they are dark, churning, about to storm.

Oh, how wonderful. Now it's going to rain as well.

You walk faster, hoping to find a house with some sort of open window or door that isn't locked so you can stay for the night. There's no way you can get back to your neighborhood in the dark like this, much less your own house. Besides, even if you could you know you would just get thrown out again. Finally, you stumble upon a house painted deep purple with a fuchsia trim. Odd colors, but looking through the cracks in the fence you can see a door leading to what must be some sort of basement door slightly open. Scaling the fence, you drop down into the yard.

Sneaking through the grass and dirt, you slip through the door and shut it behind you with a small click. You were right, this is a basement; but no way it's a small one. The Entirety of it is the size of your apartment times 3. There is a huge flatscreen TV that sits in front of a couch twice the size of your bed. The carpet is soft and you take your shoes off before wandering farther in. There's a granite bar sitting over a tiled section, completed with a full kitchen behind it. There are shelves and shelves of video games, consoles, pillows, games, controllers, basically everything a boy your age could want. There's a small door that leads into a bathroom that you walk in, complete with a jacuzzi tub and a flat screen tilted toward it. The entire bathroom is huge. There's a connecting door on the wall, and you press the handle slowly, cautiously.

Behind it, there is a boy. He's wearing these really tight, striped pants that almost look like leggings and combat boots. He also has a black shirt on, and his hair is so slicked back into some sort of pompadour you can't believe it's not falling over with it's weight. He turns around and you can see he has glasses on, those hipster ones, and he's holding a small, steaming cup of what you assume is some sort of cappuccino. He opens his mouth to shout, but before he can you are across the room and holding that bastard's mouth closed with your hand. You move your body quickly so you are behind him, holding his head in some sort of headlock so he can't move away from you. You put your mouth close to his ear and whisper;

"I'm not here to hurt you, but if I need to I will. Do you understand?" He nods and you slowly slip your hand off of his mouth, his neck, and move away from him.

The second you are away, you sit on his bed and he scans you over. You understand that you must look like shit, what with blood in your mouth and whatever other cuts and bruises you may have from your father and/or yourself. You rub your hand against your mouth and look at it. It comes off red, smeared with saliva and blood.

He starts to speak, not even seemingly afraid that there is a strange person who just broke into his house.

"Get. The. Fuck. Out."

You sigh, slinking out of the room and out the door. Scaling the fence again, it starts to rain. You shiver in the cold water and air. You run down the street, this time not necessarily looking for a house, but shelter from the rain. Eventually the houses thin out and you come to a school of some sorts. You run around it, checking the doors, but everything is locked securely. Sighing, you settle for an overhang that goes over a back door which you assume is for the trash people and janitors. No one should be here in the early morning, usually people use doors like these only at night.

You lean against the wall and slink down, pulling your hands all the way into your shirt. Sure, it seems like a childish thing to do, but when you actually think about it, it's actually a practical method for staying warm. All of your body heat is condensed in one place, and when you pull your knees in it makes things even closer. The closer, the warmer.

You close your eyes, trying to block out the world. Your home. Everything that's happened all day. Maybe if you just close your eyes, you can sleep and let the world drift away from your fucking life.

Anything but your fucking life….


	2. Outcast

**Hey guys. Sorry for slow updates and such, my life is still insane; I'm trying my hardest. Anyways, new chapter=happy viewer, and that's my goal, so here we go! :33**

 **Reviews/follows/favorites are wonderful as always.**

 **Have a great morning/day/afternoon/evening lovelies!**

 **~Eridan POV~**

You can see a boy sleeping from where you stand. You're at your school, and you can see him, sitting there, in the freezing cold, against the brick, shivering. Where do you know him from? HIs face is so familiar...and those glasses… Waking up with a start, you blink your eyes. Your phone has it's alarm singing, and you reach over to slide the screen. The sound shuts off and you are left simply with silence and your own breathe. You stumble out of the thick comforter, swimming out of the seemingly endless waves of sheets.

Once you reach the bedside you pick up your glasses, pulling them off your bedside table and onto your face. The entire world becomes 20% clearer, but you still grumble with resentment. Every day starts much too early. You sigh, walking over to your closet and throwing on your signature outfit on over your boxers. As you slick back your hair with gel, all you can think about is the boy in your dream. You swear you recognize those 3d glasses, they were so stupid you couldn't miss them… He was the guy from last night, wasn't he? The one who had broken into your house! The bastard. He's even intruding on your fucking dreams.

You finish running your hands through your hair one last time, revealing a purple stripe hiding in the many layers of your thick hair. Looking in the mirror, you can see your own purple eyes glaring back at you. Leering at yourself, you growl and almost bare your teeth, and then strike a pose for good measure. Fierce, yet stylish. You can not let the words of the others get to you. You can be yourself. You can do this. You can make it through another day.

Walking up the stairs, you almost say goodbye to your father before you remember he's not home. He won't be for the next couple of weeks; you shudder at the thought of that guy coming back while you aren't here. No. You shove the thoughts out of your head. It won't happen, you'll be fine. You really need to put a lock on your basement door. Making a mental note of it, you swing out the door, grabbing an apple from a nearby bowl of fruit before shutting the door and locking it.

You press the button on the keys twice, unlocking your car and hearing the familiar beep go off twice. The purple porsche gleams in the sun and you climb into it, pulling the door shut and turning the keys in the ignition. Right away the radio starts up and you nod your head to the music. Pulling out of the driveway you take a left, going up the street some until you pull up in front of a fuchsia house. Feferi jumps out of the doorway, bouncing up and down along with her hair. As usual, she's smiling and giggling, her bangles clashing together on her wrists. She climbs in, shutting the door with a thud. She smiles at you and you give her a tired look back.

Technically, Feferi has her own car that's even nicer than yours and a house that's even bigger than yours and closer to school, but she still hangs out at your place all the time and insists on you picking her up from school every day. You've been best friends for eternity, yet you still don't understand why she acts like this. It's not like you aren't going to see her all day, you have most of your classes together.

Pulling up to the school you turn off the ignition and scan the grounds. Feferi skips out of the car, not expecting you to follow. She submerges herself in her group, finding her best friend Aradia who's here on a scholarship. You can see Equis standing by the front entrance, so you decide to go in the back way. This also saves you from having to deal with Vriska Serket, who you assume is somewhere out in the grounds, as well as Terezi, Kanaya and Gamzee. None of these people like you. Especially Kanaya. You have one friend, Feferi, and you even treat her like shit. After school, you'll make sure you smile back at her. You bet she'd love that.

You open the door slowly, trying to stay low and unnoticed without acting unusual. Sneaking around the school, you turn the corner and walk toward the back entrance. This is technically where they take the trash out, but it's better than facing the people in the front. There's a figure hunched over, shivering by the door. It's just like your dream this morning, except the figure doesn't seem to be the guy who broke into your house. When you get to him, you kick him lightly in the side with the toe of your shoe He looks up and you.

Those glasses. That face. This guy must be stalking you. You instinctively back up a few steps and he looks at you and smirks. But somehow, it's not cocky; it's sad, and tired, and cold. Softening a bit, you look him in the eyes.

"Why are you here?"

"Because I needed a place to sleep." You look at him in astoundment. Who ever heard of not having a place to sleep?

"Why don't you just go home, smart ass?"

"I can't."

"Why?"

"BECAUSE I FUCKING CAN'T, OK?" You look at him with shock. There are tears running down his face, and he pulls his knees to his chest. Why is he crying? It's a simple question. You start to squirm, not used to being in the presence of another crying being.

Not knowing what to say, you simply say nothing. You stand there and watch him cry until he stops, keeping his head on his knees. Before you even know what you're doing, you're talking to him.

"You can go to my place. Take a shower. Sleep on a couch instead of concrete." He looks at you, mouth open, eyes wide, smile creeping onto his lips. You are just as surprised as he is. You've just offered a stranger to stay, sleep, and shower at your house while your dad is on a business trip. If he finds out, he'll be pissed. But you sigh and hold your arm out to the side, offering him to walk in the direction of your house. He grins now, and gets up, walking past your arm. As he passes your ear, you can hear him whisper;  
"Thank you." You nod and open the door, not even waiting for him to round the corner.

Now you've done it. Someone is bound to find out. Could you say he's your cousin? No, even cousins look more alike than that. Your family roots are totally different; you're white as can be while he looks more tan, almost hispanic. Also, he's about half a foot taller than you. You sigh, but before you can finish you hear a crack and something sliding down the side of your face. And laughing. Those familiar cackles. You pull your hand up to your head, feeling the wet egg yolk slide down your neck and the shell slip into your fingers. Terezi and Vriska. You don't even have to look. You just step into the closest bathroom. You can still hear their insane laughing echoing through the halls, under the door, and finally resonating through your ears.

You try to block it out and pull a paper towel from the dispenser, wiping off the goop and shell into the trash. You take another and run it with water and soap, but you know you'll smell slightly off the entire day. Those bitches.

Turning out of the bathroom, you walk to your locker. People avoid you as you walk through the halls. Go around you. Because no one wants to be caught with Eridan Ampora, the hipster freak with no friends. You think; if Feferi was really your friend, would she abandon you like this at school? Or is she just too busy? You sigh out loud, but nobody notices. Nobody ever notices. Because who would ever want to notice the outcast?


	3. Control

**Hey, sorry for the delay; more personal problems. Two chapters today as an apology!**

 **Reviews/follows/favorites are always lovely.**

 **Have a good morning/day/afternoon/evening loves.**

 **~Sollux POV~**

You open the door to the room, letting it click shut as you close it. You can't believe it. You are actually here, on your own, in someone else's house, and you were _invited to stay._ Still in sort of shock you trudge into the bathroom, running your hand along the wall of the basement as you go. Flipping on the light in the bathroom, you walk into the artificial light and allow yourself to enjoy the warm, heated air on your skin before you strip and step carefully into the shower. It's steaming hot, and you feel like you're thawing your skin. It's only fall, and still during the night it's one of the coldest times of the year.

You sigh, taking in the display of soaps and shampoos and bath salts and other things you've never even heard of. Seriously, how much do you need just to take a shower? You don't even know what you're supposed to use. Sighing, you grab one that seems to resemble shampoo and lather it in your hair. It's so nice to take a long, relaxing shower. At your own house, you can never take one longer than 5 minutes because it would take up too much water, and your father would either shut it off, it would turn cold, or the water bill would go up. For you, every dollar counts.

Your entire life, your father has spent all of his money on booze and strippers. You know because not only is he always drunk, but pretty much every night you can hear the sound of him and yet another girl through the thin wall. Headphones have become your only friends. Anyways, because of this, any food or bills that need to be payed pretty much have to be done by you. You work every other night at the supermarket, and there you get to eat pretty much anything that doesn't come in a package for free. So you eat most of your meals there, and then with what money you have left you buy a little food and then cover the bills.

The only thing you've actually bought for yourself in all the years you remember is clothes, an extremely durable pair of headphones, and after saving up for multiple weeks, an old Ipod off Ebay. That is your most prized possession. You haven't even bought new clothes in about 3 years. You just recycle about 5 outfits, almost all of it generic black with splashes of your favorite color, yellow. Black doesn't stain; not even with blood, so it's most practical.

Realizing that you've been in the shower for a while, you shut off the shower and walk out, taking a purple towel off the rack next to you and wrapping it around yourself. You look at the small clock next to the mirror, wondering how long you'd been in the shower. 7 minutes, and it felt like the longest one you've taken your entire life. Actually, that might be true.

You grab a smaller towel, running it through your hair and tossing it on the counter before walking into that guy's room to look for clothes. He might care, but you aren't really thinking about it much when you walk in. When you had first come into the house the other night, there'd been so much worry and so much rush you hadn't even been able to look around the room. It is huge, with a large canopy around the king sized bed and a huge comforter. That bed looks so inviting, but you force yourself to go over to the closet.

On the way you pass the desk, which is made of ebony and has a large mirror crested with elegant designs. You can see another flat screen hanging on the wall where you assume is a good angle for laying in bed. There's another gaming system connected to it and you stare, wishing you had it. You'd only ever played with cheap arcade games when you were about five, and even then they were like pacman or something old like this. You longed to play Call Of Duty, Black Ops, GTA, The Last Of Us, anything.

Sighing, you walk over to the closet and pull open the double doors. It's a walk in, completely decked out with mirrors all over the place. You swear there are about 1000000 sets of clothing in here, and you pull some sweatpants off the shelf. They're baggy, but it fits you perfectly considering the size difference between you and that guy. You also grab a large tee-shirt, an oversized black one with the aquarius symbol on it. This must be his star sign. You're a Gemini, but you wear it anyways because it's probably the only one that would ever fit you in the entire closet.

Walking out of the room, you stride into the kitchen area and open the fridge. Inside is a bunch of old sodas like Faygo and Tab, and you grab a "Gold," simply because it's yellow. You also take a banana and some shredded chicken, looking through the drawers before finding a fork. Sitting down on the couch, you sink back into the soft plush and let yourself be engulfed for just a minute.

You can feel your body relaxing, but your mind does not. What will your father do when you get home? Where is this kids parents? Momentarily, you feel consumed by fear. What will he do… everything you can think of is sick. Crack you over the head with a bottle, poison you, rape you, shove shards of glass down your throat, slit your skin open. You look over at the knives on the shelve and shudder before walking over to them, pulling one from the rack.

Lifting up the sleeve of the shirt you tear the weapon over your skin. It comes away slightly red, and you look down and see the drops of blood come from the cut. You slice again, letting the cool knife follow it's own path. You are pathetic for letting yourself do this, but just seeing the red, feeling the slight sting of pain… You raise the knife to cut again. That rush of satisfaction, that little piece of pain to save you from the rest of it, it's so sweet you smile.

No one cares. If you can just get through this, let yourself keep going, keep away from arteries, you'll be ok… for now you're ok… You look at the red droplets falling away from your skin and smile slightly. That rush, there's this simple adrenaline that you can't stop. It almost makes you want to throw your head back and laugh, let it all go. All of this fear and pain that's in your life, it is nothing. But at the same time, isn't it everything? All this terror, all this torture, it's the main part of your life, isn't it?

Cringing now, you think. Do you even want to be ok? Is that an option anymore? Probably not. You feel sudden tears slip down your face. What are your emotions? Just a moment ago, you were totally fine. You have no control. Everything you do is just some roller coaster of events, and you don't know where the ups are and where the downs are. The only thing you have control over is your physical pain… so you'll make that. The knife in your hand slips farther down your arm until it finds your wrist, right over the vein. The chances of actually hitting it successfully are slim of course, but maybe you could just try a few time…

Yeah…. maybe you'll just try a few times...


	4. Together

**Second chapter of the day. :33**

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 **Have a good morning/day/afternoon/evening, lovelies.**

 **~Eridan POV~**

You pull the keys out of your ignition, sighing as the car powers down. Now that you're home, you actually have to face the person who you invited to stay in your house. Grunting, you travel out of your car and unlock the front door, hearing your footsteps echo through the house. You drop you bag on a bench right by the door and walk down the stairs. You need to address this guy, figure out a little more about him, who he is. You assume he'd be downstairs, as the basement door is the only door that doesn't lock.

Trudging down the steps you look around. Everything seems regular except that the television is on and playing the news. You walk around to the front and see the guy passed out on the sofa, blanket wrapped around him and head turned to face outward. You smile. Although you don't know anything about this person, he looks so innocent with his bangs layered over his eyes, no glasses, just the soft face of someone you don't know. You take your hand and try to run it through his bangs but as soon as you touch him, his eyes flash open and he's getting up, ready to kick your ass.

Moving away, he seems to relax and sits back down on the couch, sighing and letting his head fall back onto it. You cautiously sit next to him and he scooches over slightly, giving you room to sit. You're extremely uncomfortable around this guy. Why did you invite him into your house? Before you can think of what to do, he speaks.

"What's your name." He says it like a statement, not a question. His eyes are closed and his face is facing the ceiling. It seems that he's wearing one of your larger versions of the shirt you have on currently, some sweatpants, and a gray zip up sweatshirt over. Everything from out of your closet.

Sighing, you answer, slightly annoyed, but then again not really.

"Eridan. You?"

"Sollux." You notice when he speaks, he has a small lisp that turns his s's into th's. It's kind of cute in a way, and you smile. Wait, cute? What the hell is wrong with you? This is the guy that broke into your house, not exactly trustworthy boyfriend material. You sigh, attempting again to start up conversation and learn more about this "Sollux."

"So, where do you come from? Obviously not around here." He snorts quietly.

"The other side of town, in an apartment complex near the border." You look away, even though his eyes are still closed. Right by the border? The places down there are downright nasty. You've heard so many stories about fights, drugs, drinking, gambling; and most of all, poverty. No wonder he'd broken into your house.

You look back and see that he's staring at you now, and you stare back. You hadn't noticed before because of those awful nerdy glasses, but his eyes are a brilliant shade of blue against his skin, and his hair falls just over them by the tips. He looks away, breaking the stare and looking back at the television.

"So, what's the deal with parents? Am I hiding in the basement all the time, do you just have permission to keep strange people in your house, what." You pause, not sure if you should tell him about your father's absence, but you figure it's for the best.

"Actually, my dad's on a trip for the next two and a half weeks."

He looks at you, obviously surprised. I mean, you would to. What are the odds that you end up breaking into the house of a guy who is willing to let you stay there _and_ who doesn't have any supervision around? You shrug and he grins, turning up the volume from barely audible to a regular level of noise. You realize that he must have been making minimal noize, trying not to either get kicked out or get you in trouble… You smile and laugh, taking a soda you opened last night off of the coffee table and taking a long drink.

Before you even know what's happening, the two of you are laughing on the couch, playing GTA5 and conversing about the game. The two of you have so much in common, and he annoys you slightly, but in a sort of attracting way, like in that sexy flirty thing you've always found yourself falling head over heels for. It's a Friday so you don't have to worry about homework and you finally let yourself relax. All that stress, the people you hate, the worrying about Feferi, everything that's given you hell over the past 3 years of your life, it seems to melt away somehow in the moment. Because of him…

It starts to get cold so you grab half of his blanket and join him, the two of you sharing the large fuzzy quilt as you play through time.

"Hey, do you want to watch a movie?" You look at him, smiling slightly. He grins, nods, and you get up, walking over to the huge stack of movies on the shelf in front of you. You sort through the stack, trying to figure out what he might like, but before you know it Sollux is standing behind you, reaching around you to sort through it as well. You try hard to stop the blood rising to your cheeks but you can't. You can feel the blood in your face rising and the heat prickling your cheeks.

He must notice because you can feel him smile and pres tighter against you, wrapping his arms fully around your shoulders. You kind of just stand there for a moment and you let your head fall back, onto his shoulder. There's no music but you feel yourself swaying back and forth with him. It's like the rhythm of something, but not something that can be heard out loud… Slowly, his hands slip off of your shoulders and grab a movie, not letting go of you the entire time. You walk over to the television in unison, slipping the disk in and walking back over to the couch. You don't even care what's on, you just know that he's close to you and you don't know anything else anymore.

In fact, shouldn't you be disgusted by this? This is the guy that broke into your house, you should be shoving him away, telling him to fuck off like you would anyone else. But somehow, you aren't. He actually feels… right. It's not like anyone you've ever found before, but you can feel your entire being just sort of clicking with his. You've always thought soulmates were bull shit, and you still do, but you're starting to believe that you might finally be able to love someone fully. Maybe. I mean, you've known the guy for like what, a day? Slow down, Romeo.

But when you sit on the couch practically on top of him, you can't help but smile slightly and lean into him. He wraps his arms around you again, and you bring your arms up to hook around his. You lean into him more, between his legs with your back resting against his warm chest and your head loling onto his shoulder, although not on top seen as your height compared to his is extremely short. He rests his head on your shoulder and you can feel the air come from his mouth as he sighs. It's not a sad sigh though, it's more of a happy content one.

You can also feel him smile on top of your head. You try to watch the movie, but you can't seem to concentrate on it. Slowly you can feel yourself drifting in and out of consciousness. You slide onto your side and Sollux lets you move, shifting his body around yours to end up in a spooning position. Feeling sleep come over your eyes, you can feel the warmth of him surrounding you completely. For once, you're spending the night with someone who isn't just there for sex…

For once, you aren't alone.


	5. Sheltered

**Sorry this is taking so long to update, I'm working on it…**

 **Reviews/Favorites/follows are always nice**

 **Have a lovely morning/evening/night loves**

 **~Sollux POV~**

When you have no one watching out for you, regular things become a challenge. You don't want anyone to judge, so you don't let anyone know, and you're life becomes a lie. Picture day needs to be forged, permission slips, anything that might tick someone off that you have basically no parents, and you're screwed. Everything is a battle, a game, something to be won or something to cover up. But not with Eridan. With him, you're life is just… life. Not a test. Not a challenge. A life. And that's new to you.

Looking down you can see the top of his head, the once highly gelled back pompadour deflated and now coming down over his face. When it's not pulled back you can see how long his bangs are, how they actually drape far over his eyes. The sides of his head have short hair, almost shaved, and you can see him a different way. Just because of one, simple change, a person can become completely new.

You pull your hand off of his chest and run it through your own hair. You should cut it, it's getting extremely long. Maybe he would cut it for you; you smile at the thought. Pulling away his hair from his face towards you, you sigh contently. He's in between your legs, head rested on your chest and tilted to the side. His breath is warm on your arm and his face is soft, almost childish. Every line washed away in deep, peaceful sleep.

You've never experienced something so gentle before. He's so... small. Precious. Something you have to protect, something that could disappear in a second, just like everything else… but something you don't want to leave. Something…. someone you desperately want to stay.

He stirs a bit and you look into his eyes as they open. That strangely recognisable violet, the globes that glimmer even in the dark. The light is dim in the room, the only source coming from the glass door to your right and the small windows that line the walls close to the windows. The dark lighting reflect upon his skin tone and it almost looks grey. He smiles at you and you bend your head down.

His nose touches yours and you look straight into his eyes, watching him as he turns his head and lifts it slightly to envelope you in a kiss. You kiss him back, holding the back of his head. he props himself up on his elbow and you pull apart for a second, breathe, and then kiss again. You do this several times before breaking apart and swinging yourself off of the couch.

Smiling, he leads you up the stairs and into the kitchen where he silently makes food. For some reason, there is no need for words. You watch him as he works, hair still falling into his face. Every once in awhile he pushes it back, but it always falls back to it's original place. His figure is built stockily rather than to have muscle, and he glides around like a dancer. Graceful, almost feminine.

You almost chuckle but shake your head and get up, going to help him make the coffee you want. He smiles up at you when your large hands go over his delicate ones, and you take the pitcher from him, searching through the cabinets until you find what you're looking for. Two mugs, not surprisingly dark purple are in the space and you pull them both out, filling them with the coffee in the pot. You drink yours as is but he stops and pulls a sort of creamer out of the fridge and pours in a bit, stirring it, and then proceeds to sip from it.

Sitting at the table you watch him fry eggs and toast bread before setting a plate in front of you. You smile and kiss him on the cheek before eating what he's givin you.

"So," He says between bites and you look up at him.

"I know that this probably isn't a great subject for you, but where do you even come from?" You stare at him for a moment.

"Finish and I'll show you."

The two of you finish your food quickly and walk back downstairs, him running into his closet and changing into a fresh shirt before you walk outside. The air is crisp and you watch the trees, red and yellow leaves falling to the ground. You walk over to the highly expensive car and hold out your hand for the keys to the ignition. He hands them over and you unlock the car, sliding into the driver's seat. You wish it wasn't so flashy, so expensive; it'll be easily noticed, and that's not something all that great for you; but, hey, beggars can't be choosers you guess.

Music blares and you reach over to the volume knob, slowly turning it to the left until the sound is barely audible, merely background noise. You pull out of the driveway and drive slowly down the road, passing the large houses and watching as they become smaller and smaller until most of the scenery turns to dust. You drive till the streets turn to cracked asphalt and the drizzle suddenly coming down creates a tarish, disgusting smell. The houses turn small, the roofs sunken and the walls sloping. Graffiti seems to run in the streets and you watch the roads as familiar colors and sounds reach your senses.

In the streets are people like you. People slouched under overhangs, people being driven out of places by shouting owners. Gangs fighting in the darkened alleyways and children, holding out signs with carboard with ribs poking out of their chests, sunken, dead, tired eyes following you as you pass and then snapping back to their surroundings. Cats walk on the side walks and run into trash cans, scavenging for food. Not many have all of their limbs, or are missing eyes, or are trying to hide small kittens with matted fur and scared features, fear and pain embedded into their beings, etched into the stone of their faces.

You hear a slight sob, choked back and repressed. Without saying a word you take one hand off of the wheel and hold his. His fingers wrap around yours tightly and you can feel him shaking. He's not used to this. He's sheltered. He's fragile. He is the embodiment of a small flower while you… well, you are this. But there's no use hiding. There's no place to hide.

After what seems like eternity you pull up in front of your house. Well, your apartment. It's a 4 story building built out of stone. The roof is sunken and the entire thing is covered in an unwashable amount of dirt. You can imagine the wooden floors stained red in many spots, the shattered, dirty window sells, the tables and chairs worn down by all of the dust. This is the place you feel most alone. This is the only place you have to call home.

Now, he can't stand it. His whole body is wracked with sobs and you just guide him onto your lap, climbing over the divider. His hands go up around your neck and he sobs into your shoulder. You wrap your arms around his lower back, and before you can control it, silent tears are coming from your own eyes. You have only thins and somehow, he can have so much. But he didn't know, he was never subjected in the slightest to your life. No stories, no facts, no prior experience. Because the world you both live in isn't fair. It's hell. It's goddamn motherfucking hell.

And there's not much you can do to get out of that.

Just one thing...


	6. Gone

**Hey, so I know this is short. I have no wifi unless I go to the library, which means no access to my drive unless I get to wifi, so this is getting progressively hard. The wifi situation should clear in about a month. If I have time, I will post another chapter today. Thanks to my friend Naomi for helping make these chapters happen at all.**

 **Reviews/follows/favorites are wonderful as always.**

 **Have a nice morning/day/afternoon/evening, loves!**

 **~Eridan POV~**

Maybe now you understand. You know you didn't before, but as you sit in the passenger seat, an empty shell, you think you get it. Hearts, they're much like bread dough. When you work it out just enough, you get it soft and bendable. But when you play with it too much, it gets hard. And that's how Sollux's heart is. You get it. You think you get it.

But as he drives, eyes stuck to the horizon, hand crusted onto yours, neither of you are beautiful. There's nothing beautiful about this. You are a mess, tears staining you cheeks, nose running, a constant, ugly grimace set into your face as you hide behind your hand, unable to stop the choked cries running from your mouth. Wrinkles of strain etched into your forehead. And he, he's stone.

Anything gentle you saw in him before seems to run away in a tsunami of pain, and you watch him. He is literally a statue, only his hands moving slightly to turn and drive. HIs face is set, emotionless, but there's one small crack in his mask that he can't hide. Just beside the corner of his mouth is a dip, the beginning of a frown. You know it's your fault, and it just makes you gasp harder, shake more, cry longer.

All you wanted was to know, not this. But is this in itself knowledge? Ignorance is bliss. Maybe this is what the real world is like. Maybe where you grew up, everything you remember, everything that you know, your values…. is that all fake? You don't even know what's real. It feels like a movie. An apocalypse movie. Or a tragedy. But the set, the faces, the feelings… it's all too real. Too god damn real, and you can't really take it.

The shock is still fading away and you feel, slowly, as your body becomes numb, your grip on his hand slowly loosening to a normal strength rather than the stone grasp you've been holding it with for so long. You slowly relax, hand falling away from your face, feet slowly sliding off of the seat and down onto the floor of the car. The tears stop but they dry on your face. They feel tattooed. Stuck there forever, even though you don't want them there anymore.

Eventually the two of you make your way back to the gated community, and the dust and grime come away, replaced by shining buildings reaching up from the ground. Your hands feel dry, cracked, and you open the car door, getting up and numbly walking to the door. You feel almost dead, but continue to unlock the door. Trying to hold it open, you slump against it. Warm hand find their way around your hips and hold you, half carrying you inside. You barely feel it. You know you're being taken down the stairs, but the next thing you remember is crying, again, spooned into him on your bed. He's stroking your hair and your have your hands clutching his, which are wrapped around your chest.

How much can you cry? Forever? Maybe, if there was enough water in your body for it. You don't know anymore. Forcing the tears to slow you turn, shifting your body so it's facing him. His arms envelop you again and you can't help yourself. You feel so fucking weak. Just glancing at the sight of that life and your bawling. He lives in that hell. How can you be this despicable? And now he's holding you. Because you're the one who needs to be comforted, yeah right. You should be helping him, but no matter what you do you can't seem to function at all rather than to burrow into his arms. You are horrible. You are fragile. Yet you can't seem to be anything else. Before you can think more, the world is fading, and you claw at consciousness but you can't seem to find a hold, and drift off.

When you wake up you find yourself alone, sitting in your bed, eyes dry and feeling horrible. Birds are chirping outside and you think profanity at them. How are they cheary? You don't know. Everything about you right now feels crusted over, and you walk over to the mirror on your desk. Looking at the reflection you almost grimace.

There's a sheet of dried water on your cheeks and imprints from your bed in red on your face. Your hair is all pushed to the side, and one of your piercings has slipped out of your ear, lost somewhere in the depths of your bed. It's too big, too brightly colored. Everything is. How can the world be so cheery, so totally fine while all of that horror is happening not an hour away?

And how could you not have known?

How come nobody where you're from knows?

Exasperated, you strip your clothes, walking into the closet and looking around, finding a simple black shirt and blue jeans to change into. You feel weird walking around naked with another person in the house, so you slip into the jeans and grab a belt before walking out, slinging a towel over your shoulder.

You're getting better, you can tell. You don't feel so much sluggish as depressed, and the pang that hits you in the throat is much more bearable. How long will it last, you don't know, but you have hope that it will pass soon enough.

Every step that you take on the carpet is another step that you're coping, you're feeling a little bit better. See, this isn't bad, you can de-

You drop everything.

You were so, so wrong.

Nothing is ok.

Not anymore.


	7. Don't Let Go

**Sorry I don't know how to intro this. Sorry it's short, but its finished as it needs to be for now.**

 **Reviews/follows/favorites are nice as always.**

 **Have a great morning/day/evening/night, lovelies.**

 **~Sollux POV~**

You watch as he drops it all. His clothes, the towel, his small smile.

It makes you feel so worthless. So horrible. Why? Why do you do this? But even as you think this, you let the knife slide one more time across your wrist and pray it kills you. You let it drop to the floor and everything seems to go into slow motion for a moment. The knife takes what seems like minutes to reach the ground, to clatter multiple times before resting on the ground. His cry of sheer agony seems to last for light years. The drop of blood, beading at the slit and falling down in a trial, however, could not last for long enough.

Satisfaction. Terror. Sadness. Regret. It's all running through your mind as he runs the short steps to you, grabbing your wrist and holding it, running his fingers over your scabs, your scars, your slits. He's crying, and you can feel the hot liquid running down your arm. Somehow, you can't even hear him anymore. You're so numb. The whole world is happening, but you aren't. You're not even alive anymore. You are breathing. There is blood running from your heart into your veins. But you are dead.

You think he's shaking you. You let your head lull. Back and forth, back and forth. Like a rocking chair. You wonder what those feel like; you've never been in one. Letting your mind drift, your thoughts eventually turn to none. Maybe you're finally dead, maybe you got lucky. The urge to smile is there but you can't feel anything around you.

Everything is white.

Clean, clear.

You think you hear a beep, but it's faint. So, so slow. But still there.

You wish it would go away. All you want, all you ever wanted is to go away. For all of it to go away… except him.

Suddenly, everything comes rushing back. The thoughts, the pain, the hope, the sadness. Despair, memories, everything you left behind. You only want him. Why can't the rest of it go away? Him. Just him. And nothing else.

But you guess life's cruel like that, because you can't have one thing without everything else.

If you're going to have him, you have to have him, all strings attached.

So what do you do?

You don't let go.


	8. For Him

**Yo! So I actually got this up and wow this is crazy. I guess I should put trigger warnings on these, but if I did I'd have to edit them all because none of my writing is happy. Meh, I probably need one on this one. At least writing it was a pretty personal, intense experience. Also! Props and shoutout to JustABunchOfNonsence, whom I've called Naomi before. She not only gets these uploaded for me but is a close friend and a wonderful author, so check her out. This is long.**

 **Reviews/follows/favorites are nice as always.**

 **Have a great morning/day/evening/night, lovelies!**

 **~Eridan POV~**

You rock on your tailbone, concentrating on the ache that it creates on your spine. It's something else to think about other than the cold, nearly dead person lying in front of your eyes. The one person that you've found and learned to really, actually love.

His eyes are shut, long eyelashes curling over heavy lids the color of cream. His hair has been carefully washed, it's soft curls coiling like small, black, silky snakes. His head is rested softly on a white pillow and he has on a loose, blank tee-shirt that flows slightly away from his boney figure. His entire lower half is tucked into pristine, spotless sheets. However, his arms sit above them, palms and underarms, turned to the sky.

On his wrists, all the way up his arms, even protruding slightly from underneath the sleeves of his shirt. They're everywhere the white scars, the the red scratches. Purple scabs, maroon slits. Everywhere, fucking everywhere. Even overlapping in most of the places. Prominent or barely there, they run over both arms and hit left wrist is heavily bandaged.

You feel a pang of something. Guilt? Sadness? Whichever it's a pang, and you bring your hand up light to the back of your head. You brush it lightly, almost pushing down your head manually. You shake slightly, mostly in your hands but slightly in your legs. You take your hands and shove them underneath you, sitting on your hands to stop the quaking, but it just runs up into your shoulders.

Your feet.

Your fingers.

Your lip.

You stand up with a start, the foldable metal chair flying out from behind you and hitting the wall, clanking and crashing with a start in the silence that was there, save for the steady beep of the machines around you. You grimace, the large noise dissipating all around you. Gritting your teeth, tears begin to slide hot across your face. You're angry. Why couldn't you save him? Why couldn't you have woken up and helped him and cared for him instead of wallowing in your own goddamn fucking pity?

Throwing your fist out into the air, you hit nothing. There's no satisfaction. You squeeze your eyes shut, letting out a small grunt before falling back against the wall, sliding down next to the crumpled chair. Actually, it's holding up better than you. Your knees are in your face. And your hands, they're covering your eyes, but they don't seem or feel like your own. You're still shaking- no, now you're sobbing, breaking whatever silence and peace was left in the room with wretched, body wracking sobs.

A cry. Your own, but it's so strangled and cracked your not even sure it's you. It rings out, and your throat is so tight you feel like it's raw. You feel the sting of it, the overall pain of the entire situation. How ironic. This is all because you were weak and here you are again, useless. Breaking down expecting him to be there even though he's the one that's in pain. You're such a fucking nuisance, a waste of space.

Your fingers curl over each other, clenching away some of the tightness in your body. Your toes, every muscle you have pulls against each other until your entire being is a clenched ball. You don't even realize that you're holding your breath until you find yourself gasping for air. Unlatching everything you let yourself go completely numb, falling limply against the support of the wall. Your head hangs back, facing the ceiling, and the tears just fall. No more resistance, no more fight. You don't have any left.

Maybe you could try to convince yourself that you're a good person, but you can't because you know you aren't. You care more about yourself than anyone else. You don't know how to handle anything that you haven't encountered before. Anything you see is something directed to you, you take everything much too personally for anyone to do anything with you. Why do you do things like that to the people that you love? You don't know. Maybe you don't even know how to do anything else. Somehow, you wouldn't be surprised. if that was the case. Do you care? Maybe. But even if you did, why? Is caring at all even worth it?

Maybe this is how Sollux felt. All the time.

Right about now would be the scene in the movie where he'd be ok. Where he wakes up, taps your sulking self on the shoulder and hugs you to make everything better. But slowly, you're realizing this isn't a movie. No one is going to lend you a hand and help you, not anymore. This isn't fake like how you've lived your entire life. This is what real is. And it's much, much too real.

Pealing your body off of the floor you stand, stumbling slightly and wiping your eyes. Your glasses have been sitting on the bedside table for quite a while. You pick them up tenderly, slipping them over your red eyes. It feels as if your entire body is made out of led, your blood of molasses. When you walk it's slowly, over to the wall again, taking the metal chair and clanking it back together.

Again, it's too loud for the quiet but you drag it across the floor, letting it skid on the linoleum. You place it next to the bed with a small thud. Sitting down, the chair is now cold against your thighs, no longer warmed by you over the hours. You plant your feet onto the ground, using them to keep you steady like the roots of a tree snaking into the ground. Holding your hands together you interlace your fingers with each other.

You just sit.

You break apart your hands. You hold onto his.

Now…

Now you have to be the strong one.

For him.


	9. Broken

**Hey. Look how early I got this done! Yes! We had a snow day and I took advantage of it for you guys. Sorry, this shit takes a long time to write because it's heavy. Anyways, credit is still coming to JustABunchOfNonsence!**

 **Reviews/follows/favorites are great as always.**

 **Have a nice morning/day/evening/night, lovelies!**

 **~Sollux POV~**

You blink slightly, looking around in vision that's blurred. You aren't sure where you are and you wiggle your fingers, your toes, your tongue in your mouth. Having control of your body means you're alive, and you can feel the movements of a soft material on your skin. First you try to turn your head, grunting at the incredibly stiff muscles in your neck. After much effort you turn it, lengthening your view from the ceiling and some bright light to one side of the room that you're in.

Everything you can see is either white or silver, and the silver is all metal. This indicates to you that you're in a hospital and you audibly groan. You can see a small tube snaking from some machine into your arm, probably an IV. You can feel something on your finger and you render it as a heart rate monitor, considering the steady beeping that's beside your head.

The worst thing is the metal chair that's beside your bed. Why is it the worst? Because there's someone in it. Slouched onto the bed, clearly a mess, under eyes stained red from tears and black from lack of sleep.

Someone who you know cares.

And you remember what you did.

And all you feel is horrible.

You're the reason he's there, crumpled over himself in a mess. How long have you even been out? It doesn't feel like long enough, you're still exhausted. So, so tired. You want to get up, to go over to him, to wrap your arms around him. To tell him that you're alright, to be strong for him because you put him through this all… but even your voice doesn't come when you demand yourself to speak. You're too numb, your bones turned to lead, your throat sandpaper, your skin dust.

All you find yourself being able to do is reach down slightly, touching his hand slightly. You feel so paralyzed. You know you aren't, but every time you try to move another inch it turns into a mile. The tip of your nail collides with the tip of his. Then the rest of your finger. You continue until your large hand finally covers his small ones and you curl your fingers around his, giving a small squeeze. You know it's not tight, but your hands feels so useless, it's the most you can find yourself even beginning to muster.

Even so, he jerks up, his entire body jolting from the crippled position and throwing off your hand. He looks at you, surprised, like you're dead. You want desperately to smile at him, to let him know that everything is going to be alright, but when you look at his face, his perfect, caring, understanding face…

You know he's being strong now.

Whatever smile you'd begun to pull from your endless circle of pain is lost, breaking, shattering, as silent tears roll down your face. You aren't even sure if you've frowned or not, but in an instant he's gotten up and layed on the small amount of space beside you. One of his legs is hanging off of the bed bracing on the floor, barely touching but you can see it's keeping him from falling off. You try to roll over but as he wraps his arms around you, enveloping you in a warm, safe place, something that you've longed for so many times, all you can do is crack. Fall apart, leaving your long developed mask behind and crying.

You don't care anymore that you aren't being strong. That you're showing someone a side that you haven't shown anyone in so, so long. How long has it been since you even cried? At all? Even in the darkness of your room, house long abandoned by any others, how long has it been since you let water run from your eyes?

Maybe three months. You think it's been three months. That's either sad or sick. Or maybe just unhealthy in general. No, you had that one time. In front of him.

With his arms still wrapped around you you muster up the strength to turn on your side, moving so he has more space. He shifts, spooning your upper body in a way so that his chin rests on your shoulder. What did you ever do to deserve this? Nothing. You don't deserve this. You know that you're a horrible person. That everything you do, everything you've done… well, you can't think of anything you're particularly proud of at the moment.

What are you least proud of that you've done? What sickens you about yourself into your bones, what makes you hate you to the core of your being? This. You did this to him, you made him go through this. You're supposed to be the strong one, the one that's dominant, the tall masculine one… but you broke it all. By trying… just trying to… you know he has the mask on now.

Because when he opened that door….

When everything went slow….

You saw his face. It was a face you know all too well. Much, much too well.

He was, and is now broken.

And it's your fault.

And now there's nothing you can do about it.


	10. Fine

**Hey, so I know that this is all really late. I haven't updated for a while, I'm just still having a lot of trouble with my own life and I can't really put my projects as a priority right now. Believe me, I'm trying my hardest. Anyways, what matters is I have a new chapter out.**

 **Reviews/follows/favorites are great as always.**

 **Have a nice morning/day/afternoon/evening, lovelies.**

 **~Eridan POV~**

Looking up, you smile at his face. He smiles back weakly, stepping out the door and into the fresh air for the first time in six days. Four days unconscious, two staying in the hospital. You know what your dad is going to say when he sees the medical bill, but at the moment you don't really care. You only have one school week and another weekend before he comes home and Sollux goes out, and you refuse to let that go to waste.

Holding his shoulder you walk slowly with him. He's careful but steady, much better than the first time he got up and wobbled severely. You figure that you can't really be too cautious in your situation; you care about him too much, and you can't lose him again.

Every night as you slept by his side, pleading for him to wake up, it was like he was gone forever. Like the doctors were lying to you and that he was already dead. Gripping tighter onto his arm you lead him to the car, which Feferi drove down to the parking lot for you. She sits in the driver's seat, smiling weakly and watching as the two of you make your way over.

You help Sollux slide into the backseat and shut the door before opening the one beside it and climbing into the passenger seat of your car. Feferi starts the engine back up and begins to pull out of the parking lot, beginning the drive back home. For once, you wish you didn't have such a flashy, expensive and extravagant car. You see the faces of small children in vans turn to watch the three of you pass, but you just want to be invisible.

Behind you Sollux reaches up, grasping your hanging hand. You squeeze back, looking back at him to smile, but you know he can tell that you aren't really ok. This just makes you feel all the worse, because you know it hurts him more; he blames himself. You want desperately to tell him that it's okay, that he isn't the reason you cry but the reason you smile. But you can't.

You grew up feeling alone, other than Feferi. Your dad was out a lot, and if you showed emotion to him other than what he expected he got extremely uncomfortable. So you didn't talk about your problems or happiness a lot, and now you find it hard to really express a lot of feeling other than loneliness.

Nothing but teasing from anyone but Fef followed, and now you've found someone who you actually love, trust and care about more than anything. And you can't find the words to express it, so he doesn't know. And when he doesn't know, he can't tell that someone really cares, and then he tries…

He can't understand that you aren't mad at him, but mad at yourself.

Eventually you pull up to your house, still holding Sollux's hand tightly.

"Fef, do you want me to drive you home really quick?"

"No, it's okay. It's not that far, I'll walk." You nod, giving her a look of thanks that he can't see. She smiles, pulling the keys out of the ignition and tossing them to you. You catch them and get out of the car, pulling his door open and grabbing his hand to pull him up. Although reluctantly he grabs it, grunting as he stands on the slanted concrete. The both of you know he hates needing this much help, but what choice do you have?

Slipping the house key into the lock you open the door, letting the key chain jangle as you throw it onto the bench waiting by the side of the door. You've decided to take Monday and Tuesday off with Sollux to help him, and then you'll go to school. You send another silent thank you to Feferi, who took her lunch period to pick the two of you up.

Climbing down the stairs you hear him follow, and plop down on the couch with him beside you soon. You curl up against his side as he leans over to the table, picking up the remote and turns on the tv. It's already on the movie channel so he lets the remote fall down beside him, snaking one hand behind your back and one over your stomach, pulling you closer to him.

Resting your head on his collar bone you sigh, eyes turned toward the television but not really watching what's going on. It's like everything before you is just a blur of picture and noise, a mindless, useless distraction to your feelings of anguish and the rest of the world. He brings his hand up, stroking your hair back and forth.

Suddenly, for no eminent reason, you want to cry. You want to bawl for the entire world to see, for hours, just to feel ok. He's safe, but right now he's fragile, and you aren't really sure if it's the best idea…

You swallow, the pang in your throat thick and bulging. It feels like your vocal cords are strung taut against a board of sandpaper and rough wood. Is this what some people go through every day? You have him beside you, yet you feel so alone. You have to be strong, you have to be brave, but you're sad and scared.

Maybe this is what depression feels like.

You clench your toes, your hands, your teeth and then let them relax. These feelings are completely irrational. You're totally safe, and everything is fine.

Yeah. Everything….

Everything's fine.


	11. Yours

**Hey guys, sorry for the wait. Soooo much going on, but I'll keep this short and let you read. I'm working on another story, so expect that maybe even before this is done- but I will finish this!**

 **Reviews/follows/favorites are great as always.**

 **Have a wonderful morning/day/afternoon/evening/night, lovelies!**

 **~Sollux POV~**

The smoke in the air is eminent and while the air in the evening is rather cold, the fire in front of you is warm, and so is the body beside you. Music is playing softly and there's a bag of marshmallows strewn everywhere, probably half of the giant bag wasted instead of actually eaten. There are a few that did get onto sticks and mashed between two graham crackers with hershey's, but most of them were lost in the food fight.

Earlier that day you'd woken up much less enthusiastic about fun and life, but throughout the day you've been starting to feel better. It's like just spending the day with Eridan doing just fun things makes it seem like there's a chance that everything can be ok for you. So now, the two of you sit in front of the fire pit in his backyard sitting next to each other on the same chair. He's pressed up against your side, and the warmth of him is surprisingly large considering his small body. In the morning the two of you had gone clothes shopping, so at the moment you're much more in your own element.

Rather than large baggy sweatpants you sit in tighter jeans and converse, the black v neck clinging to you body as tightly as your boyfriend. Over it is a leather jacket adorned with chains and zippers, and as a joke you got fake 3D glasses to top off the look. The boy beside you is in regular clothing but couldn't look more perfect. His hair is slicked back into a pompadour with it's purple streak slightly off center, one strand of the royal color falling onto his forehead. Your legs are intertwined with his and one arm is behind his back, your hand coming around his back and clutching his shoulder while both of his wrap around your torso. His chin is rested on your chest and he's looking up at you, grinning.

You pull your other hand up and push a finger against his nose lightly, making a small "boop" noise as he laughs. In the fire and star light his eyes have a sort of glow to them that while could be described as a sparkle, couldn't at the same time. While there is a glimmer it's something more than that, something softer yet brighter at the same time than the typical "sparkle." You move your head closer to his keeping eye contact. He moves with you, the two of you pulling each other closer and closer until while your mouths don't quite touch, your noses and foreheads are tapping together, both of you smiling.

Softly at first you touch your lips to his, putting a pressure on his as he does the same. Instinctively you try to pull your body's closer together but all you can do is press him to you, holding his back with your hands as you kiss him, only stopping for air. You rub his arms, his sides, his shoulders. You love him so much, you want to touch every part of his body. You want to be a part of him just as much as he is a part of you and you grab his hand without stopping the kiss, breathing harder and gripping his fingers.

He intertwines his own with yours and you lock together hand in hand, lips on lips, legs intertwined with legs. With his free hand he runs his fingers through your hair, across your forehead. You break suddenly, looking into eachother's eyes with passion, with love. You break apart your hands and bring them to his face, letting your fingers wander over his cheekbones and across his lips, pressing on the bottom lip with your thumb, breathing hard.

His hand comes up and grabs your wrist lightly, his thumb rubbing circles over the bones that he finds. He's breathing just as hard as you and you gasp in union, taking a moment to stare into eachother's eyes.

"Sollux," He starts and you continue to stare at him, giving him permission to say what he wants to say.

"Look. I know that I'm an asshole, and don't say that's not true because we both know that it is. But, around you I'm just the biggest fucking asshole on the planet because I don't know how to act. It's like I get all freaked out when I look into your eyes, and every time I hear you laugh or see you smile I don't know what to say or do because you're just so beautiful and breathtaking. So, I end up as an asshole even though it's dumb. But it doesn't even seem to matter because you don't care. I haven't even known you for that long, but I feel like I have forever because you get me more than anyone. And I want you to know that I'm completely aware that we're both assholes, but that doesn't matter to me because you could say anything and it'd be ok as long as it's not that you've decided to try to leave me forever again.

"My life has gotten so much better since I met you. Hey, you broke into my house and it's still one the best thing that's ever happened to me, only besides the fact that I got there before you could die. Even if I have money and a friend, my life was nothing better than I've found I have today. And you know, it's still not perfect. There are some things I still need to show you, to let you understand. But this entire scenario to me is pretty perfect to me so far. I can never say enough how much I love you. I could talk for hours and hours saying these things over and over, and it still wouldn't even begin to amount to how much you mean to me at this point of my life.

"So, Sollux, I hope you understand just how much I love you. If you ever have to leave I want you to know that I'd wait a thousand years for you and while it'd be hell, I know it'd be all worth it for the moment you'd come back to me. But, for now, I do have you, so I'm going to cherish every moment that I can spend with you now and hope that you never have to leave me."

You feel like all you can do is blink at him. You feel so happy, but how do you come back about something like that? You've never been particularly good with words, just with actions. Everything that he's said you feel about him yourself on a spiritual level, but what can you say? All you find that you can do is grin and go in for a kiss fast, still smiling. You can feel his mouth twitch upward and you can hear him gasp, your hands pushing up the hair on his head. What in the world did you do to deserve someone like this?

The smell on his hair is that of smoke from the fire, but also some sort of shampoo. You stop kissing him and smile, pushing his head down so you can kiss the top of it. He is precious. He is perfect.

And he is yours.


End file.
